The lawyer sitting across the table from Floyd had a greasy look. “It appears your brother Errol Barnes, esquire, has left you a hotel, ” he said.
“Son, I haven’t spoke to Errol in fifty years. Why in hell would he do that?”
He opened his briefcase and took out a stained letter. “This may explain, Mr. Barnes.”
I bet you wonder why I am giving you the Hotel Charro. I bought it in 1970 as an investment and it has been the death of me. I hope it has the same effect on you.
Yours in hell everlasting, Errol
This story comes from my early attempt as a syndicated cartoonist in which the central character, Floyd Barnes, inherits a crumbling hotel full of elderly cranks. It was not picked up, but I had fun drawing it. Here’s a sample Sunday panel introducing Mrs. Krebster, an old woman who thinks that Floyd is his late brother Errol. She still talks to him even though she knows Errol is dead.